


So Many Princes but No White Horses

by Anonymous



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:45:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7453359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gwen, in a desperate move to get together with her One True Love--Crown Prince Arthur--promises her first-born child to the witch Morgana, things go not exactly to plan. Arthur turns out to be too gay to give anyone any child, indeed, and Morgana, who really really wants that first-born child, decides to get involved in match making Gwen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Polomonkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polomonkey/gifts).



> This is neither of the fics I promised, but it was the closest one to being finished. I hope you enjoy my attempt at writing something that's not M/M.

Once upon a time, there was a woman who worked as handmaiden for the Queen of Camelot. She had tons of chores, some less pleasant than others. She did the laundry; helped the queen get dressed in the morrow and helped her into her nightclothes in the evening; she kept her room clean; and served her breakfast, lunch, dinner, and everything in between. The queen used to eat with her husband and son, while the handmaiden, Gwen, stood behind her to anticipate her every need. However, in between keeping the queen’s goblet filled with watered down wine and her plate full with her favourite food, there was a lot of time where Gwen simply had to wait. And the most interesting thing to do during these long periods of boredom, was looking at the prince, Arthur.   
  
The prince was renowned throughout the kingdom for many things. He was a born leader, a great tactician, a skilled fighter, and, most importantly for the gossipers, incredibly handsome. His nose was straight and regal, his hair golden and sun-kissed, his eyes as blue as the cloudless sky in summer, and his body fit. Many a maiden swooned when he trained shirtless and showed off his muscled arms and nearly a dozen abs. It was fair to say that Gwen was one of those maidens.   
  
Unlike other maidens, though, Gwen could say that she made eye contact with him on a nearly daily basis, and even had talked to him once or twice, when his manservant had fallen ill and had asked her to be his substitute. (She’d obliged happily.)   
  
Clearly, she was a lot closer to Arthur than most of the royal household, and she was fairly sure she would have had a decent shot at his romantic attentions, were it not for the fact that, no matter how royal her masters, she was still a servant.   
  
Not once had Arthur taken the first step, but he’d looked flustered enough when she’d announced that she would be his servant for the day, all these months ago, and this combined with the intent way he’d gaze at her sometimes, and the way he’d tried to save her father (may his soul rest in peace) from the pyre after he’d been accused of sorcery, led her to believe that he was, indeed, deeply in love with her.   
  
But, as everyone knew, a prince could never marry a handmaiden, and Arthur was just too noble to make his advances on her when they could never share anything more than a mere handshake for as long as they weren’t pronounced husband and wife.   
  
Gwen, naturally, was desperate by this conundrum. So desperate in fact, that one night, after a particularly long dinner for the royal family, she lay weeping in her bed. “Woe me,” she cried. “Am I to die of sexual frustration? Will I die a spinster? I can’t marry anyone but my love. If only there was a way to cross the royal space that has been separating us for too long now! I would give anything!”   
  
Suddenly there was a  _ Crack _ ! And a  _ Boom _ ! Out of thin air a woman appeared, a golden wand in her hands.   
  
Gwen flew upright, clutching her quilt to her chest. “Who are you?”   
  
“I,” the woman pronounced regally, “am the witch Morgana.”   
  
“A witch? But magic is banished on the pain of death!”   
  
The witch waved her hand that was not clutching the wand carelessly in the air. “That is of no matter.”   
  
“Then what does matter?” Gwen asked bewilderedly.   
  
“Aha! Straight to the matter at heart! Or should I say, the matters  _ of  _ heart?”   
  
“W-what do you mean?”   
  
The witch raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Don’t make me question your intelligence, because I only deal with people who are wise enough to know what they’re getting into.”   
  
Gwen nodded, mouth clamped shut.   
  
“So, you want to marry the prince, eh? And you would do anything, give anything, to share that sacred bond with him?”   
  
Gwen nodded once more.   
  
“If you’re sure… I can help you. With just a wave of my wand, I can make it so that you become noble. You’ll get your own serving staff, a title, and all of that stuff. No one would remember you ever having been anything less than a noble.   
  
Gwen releases the grip on her quilt, and her mouth drops open. “You would do that? For me?” She points at herself for good measure.   
  
“For a price, of course.” The witch Morgana smirks.   
  
“What would that price be?” Gwen asks, suspicion clear in her voice.   
  
“I want you to promise me your first-born child.”


	2. Chapter 2

Gwen does it, of course, in a heartbeat so. In hindsight, she should have specified the terms, though.   
  
She is a noble now, yes, and even one of very high standing: a princess! The princess of Nemeth. (Gwen vaguely wonders what happened to Princess Mithian, now that she seems to have replaced her, but she’s rather preoccupied with her own problems and swiftly forgets all about her.) The problem being that Nemeth is far away, and princesses just don’t visit other kingdoms all that often. Instead of getting to stare at Arthur all throughout breakfast, lunch, dinner, and everything in-between, day after day, it takes her literal weeks of badgering her new father, Odin, for a visit to Camelot.   
  
Eventually, he complies, because ‘they haven’t visited Camelot yet  _ this year _ .’ Gwen hopes she can marry Arthur soon, so she can wake up every day next to him instead of having to look forward to  _ one  _ visit  _ a year _ .   
  


However, when she gets there and manages to corner him on the second day of her visit, he destroys all her hopes, dreams, and wishes.   
  
“I’m gay.”   
  
At her shocked silence: “The news has leaked somehow, so that’s why I can tell you, but I still trust you not to go shouting it from the rooftops. I’m sorry, I had no idea you were, ahem, attracted to me. I really don’t want to hurt your feelings, so don’t take it personally. I’ve been in a relationship with Merlin for years now, and not even death could part us at this point. So it’s not you. It’s me. Me and Merlin. Us.”   
  
He gets awkward with her right after, and Gwen cuts her visit short, not able to bear the humiliation of it all.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Gwen has been princess for two months (and about to die of boredom, thank you very much) when Morgana pops in (quite literally) for a visit.   
  
“What are you doing here instead of being in Camelot at Arthur’s side as his wife?” she demands, while the quill Gwen was doodling with is still in the midst of being dropped and falling on the desk.   
  
“Erm, what?”   
  
“I’m asking, why are you still single?” Morgana crosses her arms.   
  
“Arthur was gay?”   
  
Morgana pouts. “But I want your first-born!”   
  
“I’m sorry?’ Gwen asks. “I had no idea that Arthur would be gay! If I had, I wouldn’t have made that stupid wish, would I? Or I’d have wished to be noble AND for Arthur to be hetero or something. I was  _ sure _ he was into me,” she mutters bitterly.   
  
Morgana throws her hands up. “So? There’s plenty of fish in the sea, and plenty of men in Albion. Stop mourning the loss of one and go find another!”   
  
Gwen considers it. “Mmh. But who? I’ve never thought about any men but Arthur.”   
  
Morgana smirks. “Leave that to me.”   
  


With a loud  _ Bang! _ she leaves again. Gwen sighs and goes back to doodling.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written in a rush, but I feared that if I didn't complete the chapter and throw it online in one go, I'd forget about this for months again.

 

A couple of days later, when Gwen is modelling for a portrait by the royal painter, Morgana pops back into the room. The painter screeches, his brush flying against the painting, and promptly falls to the ground in a dead faint.

  
“Couldn’t you knock?” Gwen asks, irate. “I’ve been having to sit still for days now, and now it’s ruined and he’ll have to start all over again.”   
  
Morgana goes to look at the painting. “He isn’t doing your features justice anyway. If you want a painting so desperately, I’ll make one.”   
  
“You’d do that?” Gwen asks, before realising that Morgana has to be in the castle for a reason. “What are you doing here? Has there been...a development?”   
  
Morgana smirks. “I found you one of the noblest knights to live in these desperate times.”   
  
Gwen got up and ran to Morgana, clutching her arm. “Where is he? What’s his name? What does he look like?”   
  
Morgana puts her hand over Gwen’s. “I dropped him off on the road, a little ways from the castle, so he can make a grand entrance. His name is Lancelot. He has silky hair and Spanish looks.”   
  
“What’s Spanish?”   
  
“Oh, nevermind,” Morgana says. “The most important part is that he’s on his way.”   
  
Gwen clutches her chest. “Look at me! I’ve been sitting all day, so now my dress is creased! I must change into something suitable for the occasion!”   
  
Morgana holds her at arm’s length and inspects Gwen closely. “Nonsense, you look very pretty. Although if you insist on changing, let me help you.”   
  
Her eyes linger on Gwen’s form, and Gwen blushes.   
  
“That is very kind of you.”   
  
Gwen re-thinks her opinion soon. Morgana is not kind, she’s bossy! While Gwen undresses, Morgana goes to her closet to pick a dress. But she discards one dress after another, claiming them to be ‘too sexy’ or to ‘cover too much up’. Nothing she picks is worthy of the occasion, either not enhancing Gwen’s features enough, or to enhance them  _ too _ much and ‘we don’t want any men ogling her, do we?”   
  
Gwen is stood there in nothing but her underwear for ages, and eventually she’s had enough. “Morgana, if you don’t like any of my dresses, just conjure up one yourself! I’m cold!”   
  
Morgana looks at her, dropping the red dress she was inspecting with a distasteful look moments before. “Oh. I can see that you’re cold.”   
  
She walks up to Gwen and starts prodding her.   
  
“I have to take your measurements,” she explains.   
  
After ten minutes of prodding, Morgana hums in satisfaction. Then she waves her wand, and a green dress appears around Gwen’s form. Her hair is pinned to the top of her head, with some strands dangling around her neck.   
  
“And? How do I look?”   
  
“Perfect,” Morgana replies.   
  
Gwen smiles. This Lancelot fellow will surely fall in love with her!   
  
“Let’s go to the courtyard. Maybe he has arrived already!” They had lost track of time, and Gwen could see now that the sun was a lot higher up in the sky than before.   
  
But when they get to the courtyard, she spots familiar faces only. She pouts. “Where is he?”   
  
Morgana pats her hand. “I’ll find him for you.” With a ‘pop’ she is gone.   
  
A minute later Morgana pops back. Her face looks serious, mouth corners turned downwards.   
  
“What? Did something happen?”   
  
Morgana lays a hand on Gwen’s back. “I am sorry. It seems that on his way here he encountered a young man being chased by a Griffin. Noble as he was, he tried to kill the beast, but he was no match. They both died.”   
  
Gwen’s breath hitched. She swallowed past the lump in her throat to mutter, “Stupidly noble, you mean.”   
  
Morgana rubbed soothing circles on her back. “I’ll drop the next man I find closer to you, so he has no chance in hell to get himself killed.”   
  
“And next time find me someone who isn’t so  _ noble _ ,” Gwen says.   
  
“I’ll find someone who isn’t noble and bring him as close to you as possible.” With that promise, Morgana is gone again, and Gwen returns to her chambers, where she finds a painting of herself hung on the wall. It’s perfect.


	5. Chapter 5

Gwen is sipping delicately from a cup of tea, when a ‘plof’ sounds behind her. At this point she’s got used to it, so she doesn’t choke on her tea like she would have in the beginning. She just turns around to offer a cuppa to Morgana, only to promptly choke on her tea after all.

There is a half-naked man leering at her.   
  
“Eeek,” she screeches. “Guards!” There are two stood right outside her chamber doors. While she isn’t too impressed with them so far, she thinks they can handle one unarmed man--unless he has somehow hidden a sword in those tight leather breeches.   
  
The man holds his hands up. “No need for that.”   
  
“Who are you?” She brandishes her now-empty cup like a sword. “What are you doing here?”   
  
The man gives a half-arsed bow. “I’m Gwaine and I have come to woo you.”   
  
Gwen gapes at him.   
  
“Who are you, beauty?”   
  
“You have come to  _ woo _ me, and you don’t even know who I am?”   
  
Gwaine shrugs, giving her a lazy smile. “This woman told me that I needed to woo her friend and then she transported me here. She looked and sounded crazy, but when it comes to wooing ladies, I’m game.”   
  
Gwen drops her cup without looking if it would land safely, putting her hands to her sides. “Don’t you dare call Morgana crazy!”   
  
“Okay okay, I won’t call that Morgana woman anything. In fact, let’s forget about her altogether and focus on you.” He winks. “Or better yet, let’s focus on  _ you and me _ .”   
  
At that point, the two guards burst into the room.   
  
“You know what? That’s a good idea. Let’s all focus on how  _ I _ am sending  _ you _ to prison for trying to steal my virtue.” She turns to the guards expectantly. They shrug and apologise to Gwaine before shackling him and dragging him out of the room.   
  
Gwen waits until the door shuts closed again before calling out to Morgana, who pops into the room with a smug grin.   
  
“And? How did it go?”   
  
“How do you think?”   
  
Morgana sighs. “I’m getting desperate, okay? I just want to see you happy!”   
  
“I thought you were doing this for my first-born child?”   
  
“Of course! But you’re not going to get any offspring if you’re unhappy and single.”   
  
Gwen grabs two new cups and pours tea in them. Giving one to Morgana, she sits down.   
  
“I understand that. But a half-naked drunk?”   
  
Morgana sips from her cup.   
  
Gwen points to the seat next to hers. “Sit down so I can tell you what I look for in a lover.”   
  
Morgana sits down and doesn’t leave until night falls. And while Gwen does inform her about the do’s and don’ts in a courtship, it’s hardly all they talk about.   



End file.
